


The Masked Musician

by Lyric_Paradise



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Slytherins, Hogwarts Fifth Year, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Musician Harry Potter, Past Child Abuse, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28783053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyric_Paradise/pseuds/Lyric_Paradise
Summary: Harry Potter was a musical prodigy. But no one knew that. No one expected him to be smart or talented or himself. The wizarding world knew him as Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived. But he wanted the world to know him as Just Harry. So, when given the chance, he ran. Ran to do as he dreamed. Ran to freedom. After two years, he's back at Hogwarts, known as a mysterious musician who preforms music with magic. No one knows who he is, and he'd like to keep it that way.But Voldemort is rising, and like it or not, Harry is in the middle of it all.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	1. The Musician's Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story so it's all experimental. If it gets enough attention, I'll continue it. However, I suck at keeping up with updates (sorry) so, if it goes on, please be patient. 
> 
> This starts with a run down of the first two years then skips to fifth year. The Triwizard Tournament still happened, and Cedric was the sacrifice. It still worked since technically, he was Voldemort's enemy.
> 
> 'Italics' - Thoughts  
> Bold - Direct Quotes
> 
> I would've liked to use the book quotes, but since the part I quoted was only one scene compared to multiple pages, I just went with the movie scene.

Harry Potter’s first time playing piano was in grade school. The music room was the one place Dudley and his friends would never step foot in. That room is where the nerd’s hang out, we’ll get cooties. Harry found it during one game of Harry Hunting, he was hiding next to the sleek, black Grand Piano when Dudley said those words. He was curious at first. Then the music teacher walked in. She said that she saw the curiosity in his eyes and started teaching him.

Throughout grade school, he learned. When he was able to, he escaped the Dursley’s and went off to the Library. There, he found books on piano techniques and etiquette. He practiced at a local music store, the owner never minded. He got good, then better. By the time he was 10, he was called a young prodigy by the old man at the music store.

When Harry got his Hogwarts letter, he worried for his skill. Would he lose it? Would he not be able to practice? He never got the chance to ask Hagrid if there was a piano at the school. By the time he got there, was sorted into Gryffindor, and went to sleep, there was no way to ask a teacher.

But then, in his second weekend at Hogwarts, he came across an empty hallway with a lone door at the end. To most 11 year olds, the dark, damp hallway full of shadows and whispers of wind, would be scary. To Harry, it was peaceful. It was an escape. An escape from Draco Malfoy and his teasing remarks, from Professor Snape and his scathing looks, from Ron, and the other Gryffindors, and their expectations, from Professor Dumbledore and his knowing twinkling.

Behind the door was the only thing Harry missed from his life in Surrey. A black Grand Piano stood by itself in the middle of the, surprisingly, brightly lit room. Bright, afternoon light was let in by floor to ceiling windows. A candle chandelier hung over the piano, the only other light source in the room. It didn’t take Harry long to make himself at home in this room. Each weekend, Harry made time away from Ron to escape to His Room. He would stay there from afternoon to dinner, making up the excuse of being out by the lake if anyone asked. He was known for liking his alone time.

When the troll appeared in Hogwarts on Halloween, Harry feared that his alone time wouldn’t be happening. But that weekend, he was able to get away from both Ron and Hermione to go to His Room. Then the trio found Fluffy, started searching for the philosopher's stone, suspected Snape, then Christmas. It was during Christmas where Harry found the Mirror of Erised. He told Dumbledore that he saw his family, but actually, he saw himself, alone on a stage, playing piano. Lights lit up just him and the instrument, his eyes closed as he played. He looked happy.

But no one knows about his hobby. And Harry doesn’t think anyone would approve. From what he’d gather so far, people expected him to save them. They expected him to be this powerful wizard. When he was Just Harry.

After Christmas, they found out about Nicholas Flammel and the philosopher’s stone. Hagrid introduced them to Norbert, then detention in the Forbidden Forest where Harry encountered Voldemort in a strange, pitiful form. By then, Harry hadn’t been to His Room in weeks, maybe months. When he finally decided to go, Hermione and Ron convinced him to enter the trap door that night. He couldn’t escape them that time. They got through the Devil’s Snare, the troll room, the key room, and the chess room. Harry, with the help of Hermione, went to the last room alone. Which is where he encountered Professor Quirrell and, subsequently, Voldemort.

Waking up in the Hospital Wing was one of Harry’s least favorite moments at Hogwarts. Turns out, Voldemort was after the stone using Professor Quirrell. Said professor died while Voldemort is back to the form he was in before. Harry’s mother’s sacrifice was the only thing that saved him.

His schedule went back to normal not long afterwards until it was time to go back to Privet Drive. Before leaving, Harry had tried to ask Dumbledore for help, to not go to the Dursley’s, but he was “just overreacting”.

Summer was the usual until the night the Mason’s came over for dinner and a business deal. That’s when Dobby the house elf decided to appear with his missing letters. Then the elf doomed him to a worse summer by levitating a cake and dropping it onto Mrs. Mason’s head. He got a real good beating for that one. And bars on the windows, and a bunch of locks on his door, and NO MUSIC. That’s the main thing Harry had missed. He wasn’t able to go to the music store like usual.

It was a week after that Ron and the twins appeared in their dads flying Ford Angelia , ripped the bars off his windows, and helped him escape. It was a great birthday present compared to what it would've been later that morning. He stayed at their house for the rest of the break, even went to Diagon Alley with them. He was able to slip away from them on the way to Flourish and Blotts.

While the family met the famous Gilderoy Lockhart, Harry entered the empty music store that was tucked away in the darkest corner of Diagon Alley. Not quite Knockturn Alley but far enough form the main road of Diagon Alley so that no one paid it much attention. The old man at the counter reminded Harry of the old man from the music store in Surrey. It wasn’t long before Harry realized that the man was actually blind. Harry had immediately loved the place.

The man pointed out some piano scores and other instruments he might be interested in. Harry bought a couple of scores before thanking the old man and leaving reluctantly. He found the Weasley’s outside of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Mrs. Weasley was fretting over him as he appeared from seemingly nowhere.

The next week, they arrived at Hogwarts and nothing much seemed to change. Except for DADA. Lockhart was a horrid teacher who didn’t know what he was doing. And it seemed like he had almost the entire female population fawning over him. Harry hated him, which is saying something because he didn’t even hate Professor Snape.

It didn’t take long before bad things began to happen. First, Filch's cat was petrified, then Harry lost the bones of his right arm because of Lockhart’s incompetence, then the dueling club where Harry found out that he could speak to snakes in a completely different language. Second year was not Harry’s year. Even their scheme to get into the Slytherin’s common room got them nowhere. No one knew anything.

Then Hermione got petrified.

Harry had been going to His Room as often as he could with everything happening but once Hermione got hurt, he just couldn’t concentrate on anything but stopping whatever was hurting the school. Once they found out the truth, they entered the chamber with Lockhart, who did nothing but separate Harry from them. He had no choice but to continue into the chamber, fight the Basilisk, then Tom Riddle, then almost dying before Fawkes cried on him. The three rescuers along with Ginny Weasley, were flown out by Fawkes.

He met Lucius Malfoy for the first time then, in Dumbledore’s office. It was a couple of days before Hermione was cured and Hagrid was freed from Azkaban. Harry can say that second year had a happy ending.

But that summer was when it all changed.

He wasn’t locked in like last summer, but was given more chores. He went to the music store at least once a week when he could. He even bought muggle piano scores. The beatings from Vernon were less frequent but more violent and long lasting. The news that Aunt Marge, Vernon’s sister, would be visiting the next week didn’t lighten Harry’s mood at all.

 _'I just have to last a week. Just one week'._ Harry thought this like a mantra in his head. That first night, Harry was made to wait on them as they ate. Harry tried his best, he really did.

 **“Where is it that you send him, again, Vernon?”** Aunt Marge had asked.

 **“St. Brutus's. It's a first-rate institution for hopeless cases.”** Vernon had glared at Harry when he said this.

 **“I see. And do they use the cane at St. Brutus's, boy?”** Boy, like he doesn’t have a name.

**“Oh yeah, I’ve been beaten loads of times.”**

**“Excellent. I won't have this namby-pamby wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. Still. Mustn't blame yourself for how this one's turned out, Vernon. It all comes down to blood. Bad blood will out. What is it the boy's father did, Petunia?”**

**“Nothing. That is... he didn't work. He was -- unemployed.”** ' _Liar_.'

**“Of course. And a drunk, I expect --”**

**“That’s a lie.”** Harry had tried, he really did. Maybe this was why he was a Gryffindor instead of a Slytherin.

**“What did you say?”**

**“My dad wasn’t a drunk!”** His magic had lashed out at Marge’s wine glass, breaking it in her hand and spilling everything. Petunia had exclaimed then Vernon had tried to send him back up to his room before Marge cut in.

**“Quiet, Vernon. It doesn't matter about the father. In the end it comes down to the mother. You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup…”**

Harry had lost control at that point. They had all watched in horror, and fear, as Marge inflated and floated into the sky. At that point, Harry was already packed and rushing downstairs with his luggage. Vernon had tried to stop him but in the end, Harry made it out.

He didn’t know what to do at first. He just kept walking until he was a couple of blocks from Privet Drive and stopped. That’s when he had sensed someone or something watching him. It was a dog. A large one at that. Just sitting and growling at Harry. When Harry had tripped over his luggage, he was glad that he was able to summon the Knight Bus.

The wild ride to the Leaky Cauldron was the most fun he had all summer. When he made it to the wizarding pub, he was barely able to escape the clutches of a hunchback looking fellow and made his way to the Alley. He had one destination in mind as he beelined to the dark corner of Diagon Alley that housed the vacant music shop that was, surprisingly, still open. The old man was once again sitting at the counter.

“Say, young man, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were running from something. Or someone.”

“E-excuse me…”

“Wouldn’t it be nice to just get away. Get away from everyone who wants you dead.”

“I’m sorry sir but I don’t know wh--”

“Oh but you do, Mr. Potter. You do.” Harry was stunned that not only did the man know who he was but what he wanted.

“If only I could sir but my friends--”

“Can survive without you. Don’t you want the freedom?” The old man grabbed something wrapped in cloth from right under the counter and placed it on top. “I can give you an out.”

Curiosity peaked, Harry approached the cloth wrapped object. “How do I know I can trust you, sir?” he had asked, hesitantly.

“You can’t. But just know this, the secret to happiness is freedom, and the secret of freedom is courage. So, do you have the courage?”

Hands shaking, Harry grabbed the object and removed the cloth. Uncovered, the object glinted in the light. It was a mask. Worn, it would cover almost the entire right side of his face, the bridge of his nose, and around his eye on the left. It was black with silver music notes on a music staff surrounding the right eye slot.

“This mask is very special. It was passed down from one wizard to another and only to those who were magically connected to music. You, my boy, are capable of amazing things. And so, I pass this onto you.” For the first time in his life, Harry felt his heart swell in joy, happy tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. “It has two forms. The one you see now and this one.”

When he tapped the mask with his wand, the black of the mask expanded, creating lips and the rest of the nose. In the end, it became an almost symmetrical mask, the only difference from either side were the silver music notes that were still just on the right.

“What I suggest is getting rid of those glasses. The easiest way is by going to Gringotts and asking to see your account manager. Everything will go from there. If you have any trouble, just show them the mask. They’ll know. They’ll help with anything you need to know. Greet them by saying ‘May your vaults overflow and your enemies cower at your feet.’ They’ll answer back with, ‘May your gold flow like a river and your enemies flee before you’.”

“Thank you, sir.” Harry had said breathlessly.

“You may call me Telwood. You know where to find me. Now, shoo Mr. Potter.” Harry was almost to the door when Telwood’s voice called out. “I would find a different name to use, if I were you.”

That day, Harry Potter disappeared. Though nobody noticed until September 1st, when everyone was already at Hogwarts. Hermione was the first to notice, then the news spread throughout the school, then throughout the wizarding world. The ministry immediately blamed Sirius Black, escapee of Azkaban and Harry Potter’s godfather. Albus Dumbledore sat in his office for hours, trying to search for the Boy-Who-Lived with the tracking spells that were placed on him.

But unknown to everyone but two wizards and a handful of goblins, Harry Potter got cleansed of any unwilling spells that were placed on him, this included tracking spells and blockers. He accepted the knowledge the goblins shared with him with open arms and an open mind. He chose a second name to use in the public eye, got rid of his glasses, and any wounds that were still healing or healed wrong were healed. Scars couldn’t be fixed, unfortunately. Harry Potter left the wizarding world. Not to be seen for years.

Until 1995….


	2. Musician's Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions and a Tour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew an atrocious picture of what I think the mask looks like, link at the end. If you're an artist, I wouldn't mind some actual, good art to be drawn. Mine makes me want to gag.

The cloaked figure stopped when it passed the doorway of  _ The Daily Prophet. _ Wizards and Witches alike were funneled in the opening, most likely questioning the paper’s writers about the most recent interview that was published. Behind the mask that was hidden by the hood of the velvet green cloak, the figure smiled. In the window of  _ The Daily Prophet _ , today’s paper flashed a picture of Icarus, The Masked Musician. The famous musician who uses magic to perform music took up the front page, mask covering all of his face.

The figure chuckled as he remembered what he read earlier that morning as he ate breakfast at  _ The Leaky Cauldron _ . The Interview itself was relatively short compared to interviews like the ones from the Triwizard Tournament from a little under a year ago. But it was what in the interview that made it much bigger. 

Icarus was invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the new school year. The first Saturday after classes officially started marked the day that the musician would arrive at the school. It was a great surprise to many living in the Britain wizarding community. The masked man was last seen out of the country months ago. Knowing that the famous musician was visiting Britain's only wizarding school was exciting to everyone. 

What the people in the opening of  _ The Daily Prophet _ didn’t know was that the man of their attention was standing a mere three feet away from them. The figure, known as Icarus, started to giggle, quite childishly if one would ask those nearby who heard, as he made his way towards Gringotts Bank. After all, he had a school to attend for the year starting in two days.

* * *

September 9, 1995

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was filled with students and teachers alike. The students were loud and boisterous as they tended to their breakfast. The teachers were much quieter in their conversations but excited nonetheless. 

Today marked the day that Icarus, The Masked Musician, would be arriving. Well known in both the muggle and wizarding world, the musician was almost as famous as Harry Potter. He first appeared in the Spring of 1994, in America. He was recognized for his talent by Madame President Sarah Thompson and, since then, became an idol throughout the wizarding world. He was known to be able to play any instrument, his voice was said to rival that of a siren. 

From the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy glanced towards the head table, making eye contact with his godfather, Severus Snape. The two men knew the musician from the Annual Malfoy Yule Ball. The three briefly conversed after the musician’s spectacular performance before the younger man had to leave. Ever since, Draco was convinced that the masked man was hiding something other than his identity.

Suddenly, the noise level dropped dramatically as the Great Hall doors opened to allow in a slight, slender figure. He was dressed in black slacks and a silk black button up shirt covered by a green velvet cloak. His black shoes clacked on the stone floors loudly in the stunned silence. A wand tapped his full face mask which caused it to seem to melt away from part of his face. 

“Headmaster Dumbledore, a pleasure.” he bowed slightly before the old wizard. If his gender wasn’t as well known as it was, his voice would not be the telling trait. The musician's voice was soft like a woman’s but had a lower undertone. Draco figured the man would be mistaking for a woman, with his long black hair and lithe figure alongside his voice. “Thank you for extending this very special invitation towards me this summer.” 

“Of course Mr. Icarus. It’s good to see you again. Been busy I hear?” The old man extended his hand in which the younger wizard grasped. 

“Yes. It would seem that the ministry in France has heard word of me. I met Monsieur le Président just last month. Such a gentleman that one.” his smile blinded the old man. Some were shocked at his near perfect French intonation.

“I have always appreciated the Presidents of the Ministry in France, very wise people.” he waved toward the students. “Please, the floor is yours, Mr. Icarus.”

“Just Icarus is fine, Headmaster.” He turned toward the students. “Good Morning Hogwarts. Sorry to impose on your school year. Headmaster Dumbledore was kind enough to invite me here for the school year. While I’m here, I was given permission to not only observe classes, but put my own input every now and then. And of course, I will play some music.”

The man bowed with a smirk fit for a Slytherin. “Though, I do hope you respect my privacy and refrain from any intrusive actions.” His eyes darkened. “Else you receive consequences not even Headmaster Dumbledore will be able to save you from.” 

The hall sat in shocked silence as the smaller man smiled and approached his seat at the head table. He was seated between Snape and the DADA professor, Dolores Umbridge. Draco watched the small figure who seemed more like a child than an adult due to his stature. The musician’s long black hair was held back by a green ribbon. His bangs framed his masked face. His mask was black except for the silver music notes under his right eye. His eyes were vibrant green that matched his cloak, which he had put on the back of his chair.

“Really? I don’t think that you have any standing to threaten us,  _ Boy _ .” Umbridge's voice echoed in the silent hall. Many students, and teachers, glared at the pink enclad woman. Draco thought that it was unfortunate that this toad of a woman was on staff this year. However, he knew Dumbledore had no choice. Due to last year's death and Dumbledore’s claim on The Dark Lord’s return, the Minister of Magic forced his Undersecretary into the DADA position. Draco heard from his Father many times over the summer about how much of a suck she was. If even his Father hated the toad then Draco knew he wouldn’t last long in her presence if it’s not class.

A chuckle from Icarus drew everyone’s attention from Umbridge. “Actually, your minister accepted Dumbledore’s request for me to be here. I have every right to be here. Additionally, my ‘standing’ is greater than many people in this hall. Including you. I have met the leaders of five different countries, muggle and magic alike. I know for sure that you can’t say the same.”

After that, breakfast continued in a more subdued manner. Students frequently eyed the young man seated at the head table, some as if he were literal candy. As the hall began to empty as students went about their free day, Draco got the feeling that this year would be the catalyst for something even bigger. 

* * *

Icarus didn’t like the Umbridge woman.  _ ‘She acts as if she’s the most powerful person here in terms of social standing. Meanwhile, I’m a whole lord at fifteen.’  _ He sipped his tea in thought.

“Icarus, if I may?” Dumbledore spoke up. 

“Of course, Headmaster.” Setting his tea down, Icarus smiled at the old man, completely ignoring the toad-like woman in his way.

“I’d like to offer a tour of Hogwarts to you. Of course, it can’t be the teachers themselves as they have classes to prepare for this coming week. However,” the everlasting twinkle brightened, “we have a couple of Prefects who are more than willing to do the job, I’m sure.”

“A tour would be lovely Headmaster. Who will these Prefects be?”

“Headmaster, if I may, Mr. Malfoy has met Mr. Icarus before. So any unwanted attention would be avoided if he were to assist.” Professor Snape drawled around his own tea.

“Malfoy?” Icarus leaned back, arm on the armrest of his chair and jaw resting on his fist. “Yes, I believe I remember meeting him during the Malfoy’s Yule Ball. Intelligent man, isn’t he? You were there as well, weren’t you Professor Snape?” He smirked at the dour man.

“Yes, unfortunately.” He sneered. 

Icarus laughed. “I never did take you for a social man, Professor.” 

A throat clearing from the headmaster left brought the others attention. “Hermione Granger from Gryffindor will also be discrete. She takes her role as prefect very seriously and wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable. And it would help to have two students who each know different parts of the castle.” Professor McGonagall’s input was taken in by the headmaster. 

“Very well. Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger will be your tour guides for today, Icarus.” The headmaster conjured parchment and a quill and wrote two notes, one for each student. He sent them off with a wave of his hand. “I have informed them of where you will be staying as well. Hopefully your accommodations will be up to standards.”

“Thank you Headmaster.” Icarus stood and bowed to the table. “I shall be off then. I’d rather start now than have my day too busy later on.” He fastened the clasps of his cloak before walking away after giving the table a brief goodbye. 

_ ‘Draco and Hermione, eh? I wonder how house unity has been going since I’ve been gone.’ _

Eyes followed his seemingly floating form as he approached the two fifth year prefects right outside the doors of the Great Hall. Hermione Granger stood next to Draco Malfoy, both looking slightly reluctant to be near each other but understanding the importance of their task. Icarus was shorter than both of them, making him silently curse his mother’s genes.

“Good Morning, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger. I was told that you two will be my guides today.”

“Yes sir. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Icarus.” Granger smiled. 

_ ‘She’s gotten prettier over the years.’  _ “All that won’t be necessary, Ms. Granger. Just Icarus is fine. And please don’t feel the need to say sir to me. I’m not that old.” He smiled.

“Very well. It felt a bit weird honestly.” 

“If you’ll follow us, we’ll begin your tour. If it’s alright to you, we planned to show your rooms at the end.” Malfoy said as the three began their assent into the towers of Hogwarts. 

“That’s perfect. Now, I’ve heard some wicked things about these staircases in my travels. Any stories?”

The trio told stories back and forth as they visited classrooms in the upper levels of Hogwarts. Icarus thought the view from the Astronomy Tower would inspire many songs throughout his stay there. Plus, open air made music so much more mystical, in his opinion.

Malfoy and Granger were good picks for this tour, they obviously knew their way around the school. Never getting lost, and always warning Icarus of the fake doors and trick steps on the staircases. They even warned Icarus about a ghost who haunts the second floor girls restroom called Moaning Myrtle. It was noon by the time they made it back to the ground floor.

“We can either stop here for now, or we can show you the kitchens.” Malfoy suggested. Icarus couldn’t help but notice the disgusted look on Granger’s face from the statement.

“Let’s continue to the kitchens.” Icarus decided to walk next to Granger as Malfoy led them down another level. “Is there a reason why you see so disgusted with the kitchens, Ms. Granger?”

“Not the kitchens in particular, no. It’s the beings who work there. House elves. Hundreds of them. They make our food, clean up after us. They’re pretty much slaves!”

Malfoy could be seen slightly shaking his head. Icarus couldn’t help but agree with him. “Ms. Granger, do you know the reason why house elves are contracted to witches or wizards?”

“They’re a personal servant to those who can afford them. They’re bound by magic to do the witch or wizard’s bidding.” She was lightly glaring towards Malfoy.

_ ‘Draco does have a lot of house elves.’  _ “I suppose that’s what it looks like, yes. However,” he stopped walking, making both Granger and Malfoy stop as well, “house elves need the magic of the witch or wizard to actually survive. How about some homework, yes? Request to go into the Restricted Section if you need. Look up the actual bonding ritual and requirements. Look up why and how elves and witches or wizard bond. You’ll see that it’s beneficial to the survival of an elf. I agree that some witches and wizard mistreat house elves and that those people should be held accountable. However, most treat their house elves like family and would fight to protect them.”

Granger was quiet for seconds before she nodded, turning her back to the painting of fruit, and tickling the pear. The painting swung open to reveal a room about the same size as the Great Hall, which was directly above it. Five tables were situated inside, four representing the house tables and one as the head table. Hundreds of house elves ran around the room, sending up meals as lunch went on above them. 

An old looking elf appeared next to the trio. “What will Reese be serving Master Malfoy and friends today?” The elf, Reese, bowed.

“Just whatever is on the menu for lunch today Reese.” Malfoy said as he led the other two to a small table situated in an empty corner of the room. Food appeared on the table seconds after they sat. 

“Your own elf, Mr. Malfoy?” Icarus smirked in amusement as he grabbed a sandwich. 

“Reese has always taken care of me, ever since I was a child. He knows what I like so it’s just easier to have him stationed here for the school year. Plus, it’s easier to talk with my mother and father this way. Faster than an owl when it’s an emergency.”

Icarus hummed. Granger still looked a bit put-off but she ate the food nonetheless. Their lunch went by without much conversation, each of them hungry from hours of walking, climbing, and talking. They all thanked the house elves as the left the kitchen and went down into the dungeons of Hogwarts.

“You won’t find much down here. The dungeons are where the Slytherin Commons Room is as well as the Potions classroom. Professor Snape’s rooms aren’t too far from the Commons Room, just in case anyone needs him. It’s partially under the Black Lake, which makes it a couple of degrees cooler, but we’ve got heating charms all throughout the common rooms.”

“Not in the halls themselves?” Icarus chuckled. 

“Where’s the fun in watching the lions shiver in misery with that?” Malfoy glanced to Granger. “No offense, Granger.”

“Non-taken.” she shrugged.

Icarus laughed his way back up the stairs to the ground floor. They made their way down a hall not too far from the steps down to the dungeons. Malfoy and Granger stopped in front of a painting depicting a giant snake, sleeping in a nest.  _ ‘Of course it’s a snake. At least I’ll be able to make an alternate password.’ _

“These are your private rooms. Musician's Melody.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's passed 2 AM here and I'm so tired but I HAD to finish or I wouldn't have been able to sleep. Hope y'all enjoy. Criticize me, please. I'm going to sleep immediately after I post this. 
> 
> Also, lofi is the best music to write to. Just needed to put that out there. Anyway, here's that atrocious mask I told y'all about.
> 
> https://lyricparadise.tumblr.com/post/640544274012897280/the-mask-from-my-story-the-masked-musician-on-ao3

**Author's Note:**

> If there were any mistakes, please tell me. I love constructive criticism.


End file.
